Ripples

CHAPTER TWO

The actor

The constant ringing of the alarm pulled a groan and an arm out of the twisted mass of sheet, trying to grope blindly for the clock. Five minutes later, another set of ringing pulled a head out and a string of swear words. They sat up and threw their legs across the bed, heading groggily to the bathroom.
A foggy mirror comes into view; streaks of water rolling down its face like sweat. A hand wipes across the surface, revealing a vague image of a man.

He stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped round his waist and another over his head, the heat of the shower still steaming off his olive colored skin. In front of the wardrobe hung a suit bag on the door handle with a sticky paper attached to it reading, wear this. He pulled off the towel on his head, threw it carelessly unto the bed, and zipped open the bag, displaying the cyan colored suit inside. After a slight pause, he pulled open the wardrobe door and pulled out a silver-grey blazer over a white shirt and a matching colored trouser.

Sitting on the island with a plate of cereals and toast, he played the voice mails on his phone, one at a time. Beep. "Hello babe, it's 7:30, I know you'll have some problems waking up, so I've set the alarm to ring 5 minutes from now. Love you!" Beep. Beep. "Travi-baby, I'm guessing you should be out of the bathroom by now. I hung a suit set on the wardrobe door. I asked a favour from Clair, you know, Clair, who designed THE WINTER sets. Well, she picked out that suit from her exclusive set. We should thank her later. Anyway, I chose the colour blue because, based on your horoscope; blue will be the perfect colour to give your day a boost....
Oh, before I forget, I have asked the cook to set a plate of your favourite pasta with mushroom sauce! You can thank me later. " Travis glanced at the untouched plate across him as he stuffed his mouth with another spoon of milky cereal.
"Oh, can you please take out the trash before you leave? Trisha forgot to do it, and you know how much I hate seeing....
Okay baby, I'm at work now. See you at 9.p.m. love you, byeee. " Beep. Sighing, his spoon hits the plate with a clang! And he leaned back against his chair, pursing his lips.

Like looking through the lenses of a camera, we take a panoramic view; a man sitting alone in a large kitchen glazed white and metallic and shiny. The morning sunlight striking through the window attempts to thaw the coldness.

*** *** *** ***

'Cut '! Almost at once, the set was again filled with action. The quietness and almost bone-chilling loneliness were swept away under the revved hum of the people. 'Great job, everyone. Let's take a 10 minutes break and then get ready for the next scene'. The director called through a megaphone from his station.

Kelvin stepped past a crew member carrying some lighting instrument, nodding his head in greeting. He walked towards where the director and the production team sat behind the camera. The director, Huo Yanchen, a Chinese-American, glanced up, catching Kelvin walking towards them, calling him over.

'Mr Huo'. Kelvin smiled and nodded at the assistant director and screen writer sitting beside the director. 'I was wondering if I could see the video of the scene we just did'. Huo Yanchen's usual solemn face broke into a smile, and he smiled around the group as if to say; see, what did I tell you? 'Of course you can. You still haven't changed after these past two years'. Kelvin smiled, focused on the screen. 'I just hope my skill hasn't become too rusty'. Huo Yanchen shook his head, dispelling his concerns. 'Baseless worries; you wouldn't have gotten this role if that had been the case'.

**** **** **** ****

Travis tossed a nylon bag at the feet of a homeless man sleeping at the side of an alley. The beggar, roused by the rustling thumb, almost spilt the spaghetti in his frenzy. Travis leaned against the car, hands in his pocket, and watched the man. He'd finished the food in less than two minutes and preceded to licking it, his face covered with oil, his eyes filled with insatiate hunger. Travis watched him, his eyes narrowed; looking almost like he was smiling.

A silver Porche panamera rolled into the underground parking lot, smoothly parking into an empty slot. Under the overhead beam, the car glimmered, casting a glow on a silver-grey trouser leg and a shiny black shoe; its occupant stepping out with a perfect bow of his shoulders, shutting the door with a click. It was like a scene from a movie. It was too bad no one was there to see.
Travis stepped into a lift, punching buttons for the fifth floor. As the door slid closed, Travis lifted up his hand and glanced at his watch to make sure that he was on time. One hand tapped his leg, the other gripped the handle of his briefcase, and his eyes focused on the rising number on the dial. Once the door glided open, he'd put on his work friendly smile. He was stepping out of the lift as the outstanding and promising young prosecutor Harper.

The fifth floor stretched into rows of glass doors and windows, dividing the offices. The continuous hum and chatter of voices, chairs scrapping, and phone ringing in nearly every room showed the capacity of one of the top law firms in the state. Travis strode to his office, glad the hall was empty save the cleaning lady getting into the lift he had just debunked. He still nodded and smiled at her as he made his way to his office - three doors down the hall, he was, after all, also known as the polite and respectful young man. Travis sat behind his desk, pulling out papers from his brief case for reviewing. He had a case today by 12:00 p.m. about a woman getting swindled and even sued under the joint collaboration of her husband and their landlord, the husband's brother. He was an upholder of justice, and so far, he'd never lost a single case. He was the new face of the youths, youngest prosecutor - already having his face on high-end magazines. He was handsome, on the side of justice, and like the icing on a cake, in a perfect marriage.

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Author: if you liked the chapter, don't forget to vote and comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
See you in the funny pages, lovelies ,')
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Little theatre
Screenwriter: Mr Huo, you see, every time I write Travis' name, I always end up writing it as Tristan. Maybe I should just change the name?
Director Huo: No. Stop trying to influence the story with your Were-wolf fantasy.
Travis: I kind of like Tristan. Tristan Harper sounds better than Travis Harper. Maybe we should-
(Wife appears)
Wife: Tristy~ ooh I like it!
Travis: No.
Kelvin: you guys, don't forget me!